The Call of the Flag 

'By Oliver P. Parker 



Author ol 

The Winning of Latane 

'Better Than Gold 

The Valedictory 

Lone Star 

Etc 



Copyright, 1917, by 
Oliver Perry Parker 



All Rights Reserved to 

The National Drama Co* 

Memphis, Tenn. 



^T^ E offer this new Parker play with a full 
mx assurance that it will meet the expecta- 
tions of our former friends and producers, 
and make us many new customers for our Stan- 
dard Amateur plays. 

We trust the integrity of all who may re- 
ceive a copy for free examination not to offer 
the play to the public without securing from 
us a written Copyright Privilige License for 
each and every production. Any breach of 
this trust will be vigorously prosecuted b}^ us. 

The National Drama Co. 

Memphis, Tenn. 



Special Notice 

This play is fully protected by United States Copyright 
with all rights reserved to The National Drama Co., 
(Memphis, Tenn.) from whom a license must be secured 
for each and every production . 

Their charge of $5.00 covers License, a full set of parts 
for each character, coach copy and an exclusive reservation. 
They also agree to refund the $5. 00 if the production is not 
entirely satisfactory. 

The AuTHoa. 



See Order Blank in Back of Book. 



The Call of the Flag 

'By Oliver P. Parker 



Author ol 

7he Winning of Latane 

"Better Than Gold 

The Valedictory 

Lone Star 

Etc 



Copyright, 1917, by 
Oliver Perry Parker 



All Rights Reserved to 

The National Drama Co. 

Memphis, Tenn. 



fj^ E offer this new Parker play with a full 
am assurance that it will meet the expecta- 
tions of our former friends and producers, 
and make us many new customers for our Stan- 
dard Amateur plays. 

We trust the integrity of all who may re- 
ceive a copy for free examination not to offer 
the play to the public without securing from 
us a written Copyright Privilige License for 
each and every production. Any breach of 
this trust will be vigorously prosecuted by us. 

The National Drama Co. 

Memphis, Tenn. 



Special Notice 

This play is fully protected by United States Copyright 
with all rights reserved to The National Drama Co., 
(Memphis, Tenn.) from whom a license must be secured 
for each and every production . 

Their charge of $5.00 covers License, a full set of parts 
for each character, coach copy and an exclusive reservation, 
They also agree to refund the $5.00 if the production is not 
entirely satisfactory. 

The Author. 



JAN 251917 

See Order Blank in Back of Book. 



©CVn 4598^- 



7-'f-!9, / > 



The Call of th e Flag 

CAST OF CHARACTERS. 

MR. CAP ELI .—Wealthy owner of Meadow Stream. 

GILBERT CAPELL— His son. 

EVELYN CAPELL— His daughter. 

DAVID BOURNE— Manager ot Meadow Stream. 

MRS. BOURNE— His mother. 

PERCY ALBAN— Wealthy and weak. 

ADELLE ALBAN— His sister. 

THEDA ROSEMON 1 

NELLE RAGSDALE [ Of the Loyalty Club. 

DORRIS JOHNSTON J 

—Of the Loyalty Club. 

CAPT. ROSS— Of the Guards. 

JOHNIE— With a dog to sell. 

GEN'L WOODSON— Ranking Officer. 

REMUS — A friend to David and Evelyn. 

MISS WALLACE— A nurse. 

ACT I. 

SCENE — Parlor, plain but neat. 

STAGE SETTING— Three chairs, small table in center 
back. Doors R. and L. Such other furnishings as conven- 
ient to give scene the effect of a comfortable home. 

(For make-up see individual parts, which are furnished free 
with Copyright License.) 

Remus — (L. To Mrs. Bourne, seated center with needle- 
work.) Miss Mary, Mr. Gilbert Capell an' er 'oman am at 
de do. 

Mrs. B. — Find David and tell him he has company. 

/?^mMj— (Going L.) Yassam, yassam. (Ex. L.) 

Mrs. B. — (Door R.) Good morning, Mr. Capell. Come in. 

Gilbert— (R. with Adelle.) Now there is that MISTER 
again. You must call me Gilbert, Mrs. Bourne. 

Mrs. B. — I won't forget any more. (To Adelle.) Good 
morning., 

Gilbert — I beg pardon, Mrs. Bourne, this is Miss Alban — 
Percy Alban's sister. 

Mrs. B. — I am glad to meet you, dear. 

Adelle — And I am glad to meet you. I have heard so much 
about you and your son since I came out to Meadow Stream 
that I had a great curiosiiy to see you. 

Mrs. B. — I am glad >ou had enough curiosity to bring you 
over to see us. 

Gilbert — I have good news for David. The War Depart- 
ment has granted us permission to organize the Peace Train- 
ing camp we have been planning. 

Adelle— Gilbert is buggy on PREPAREDNESS. 

Gilbert — I am afraid. Miss Alban, that you do not make a 
very fine distinction between bugs and bravery. 

3 



Adelle — I fail to see where the bravery comes in. What 
is the sense in a capable young man like yourself getting out 
and training men to be mere soldiers? 

Gilbert — You forget I am a West Pointer. Besides, I am 
an American all the way through^ 

Adelle — 0, vou are making a nionnlain out of a wart. Don't 
you thmk so, Mrs. Bourne 

Mrs. B. — Now, this is yours and Gilbert's war. You must 
fight it out. 1 will referee. 

Adelle — I guess that is what you call neutrality. But, 
really now, won't you say he is crossing the bridge before 
he comes to it? 

Mrs. B. — My housekeeping experience has taught me that 
the best time to fill and trim the lamps is early in the morn- 
ing. 

David— {U) Hello, Gilbert. ( Mrs. B. and Adelle con- 
verse.) 

Gilhrrt — Hello, old scout. T jusl ran in to tell you the 
training camp is a go. I have in my pocket authority to 
proceed. 

David — Then let's proceed. (Nods towards Adelle.) By 
first meeting the lady. 

Gilbert — Sure, old bachelor. I am glad to see you getting 
interested in the fair sex. But I warn you to expect no 
sympathy from her. (Takes D.'s arm.) 

David — Even so. Our first enemy is a fair one. To the 
charge. (They go R.) 

Gilbert — Miss Alban, this is my friend, David Bourne. 

David — (Advances and shakes hands.) How do you do, 
Miss Alban. I am glad to meet you. 

Adelle — I am glad to meet you. I need help. 

David — I am a soldier. Command me. 

Adelle — Then tell Mr. Capell he is crazy. 

David — I am not prepared to do that. 

Adelle— Not PREPARED 1 Will I never hear the last of 
that? 

David — Not in America, Miss Alban. 

Gilbert — Ha, ha. You are in the minority. Why don't 
you surrender? 

Adelle — I do — for the present; for I realize I am not, ah, 
READY to meet you. 

David — Then being ready counts for something. 

Adelle — Yes, when one is in the enemy's country. 

Gilbert — Then it is too late. 

Mrs. B. — Would you like to see my flowers? 

Adelle — Anything is preferable to this War Party. 

Gilbert — (Teasing.) Run along, little girl, and enjoy the 
flowers. We will go ahead with our plans for keeping them 
beautiful. (A. goes L. with Mrs. B.) 

Adelle — Do that, and I will forgive you. (Ex. L.) 

David — By George I She is not altogether hopeless. 

Gilbert — H she is, she comes by it honestly. (Sits L.) 

David — (Sits R.) Comes by what honestly? 

Gilbert — A big wide streak of bright yellow. It is the sap 
in her boasted family tree. 



David — Her brother will be with us, won't he? 

Gilbert — Not if he can find something easier to do. 

David — I have been counting him in. 

Gilbert — Never count on Percy Alban for anything unless 
it shows him a personal profit. 

David — I am sorry to hear you say that. Tell me more 
about what you have done. 

Gilbert — O, everything is going swimmingly. Dad has just 
returned from Washington with the approval of the War 
Department. We are to organize two companies of cavalry. 
You will be captain of one of them, and I will try the other 
one. The government will furnish us everything we need 
from tooth picks to air craft — but we furnish our own horses. 

David— Thsit is fine, Gilbert. Let's call ourselves "THE 
MEADOW STREAM GUARDS." 

Gilbert — That is a fine idea. And it will please dad very 
much. He regards the work as helpful, praiseworthy, and 
above all patriotic, and is willing to do anything he can for 
us. And now, David, I want you to use your influence with 
him and get us a good drill ground. 

David — I have been thinking of meadow No. 9. 

Gilbert — That is a good place, but O, you golf links and 
polo grounds. Nothing like them in the whole country — 
club house, stables and everything just ready to begin work. 

David — Why, Gilbert, they are the pride of Meadow Stream, 
and your father's chief delight. Do you think it reasonable 
to ask him to make such a sacrifice? Some other place will 
be good enough for us. 

Gilbert — Nothing is too good for a soldier, old chap. Be- 
sides we won't destroy theni. Father may object, but if you 
will assist me we can bring him around. 

David — I don't see how I could ask him to do that. 

Gilbert — But you must. Father has great confidence in 
you, and always lets you do as you please. 

David — That is because I always please to protect his in- 
terests. And if I go now and ask him for the apple of his 
eye he will distrust me. 

Gilbert — O, no he won't. He will know that I made you 
do it, and it will be all right. We are not reserving anything. 
Why should he? 

David — I think you are the one to make the request. You 
are his son. I am but the farm manager. 

Gilbert — I want you to forever cut that out, Dave, If you 
are the friend to me that I want you to be there is no room 
for such distinctions. You can get anything my father has. 

David — I am your friend. I am proud to be. And I ap- 
preciate your father's regard, but I insist on holding it as I 
have won it — by trying to conserve the interests he intrusts 
to me. 

Gilbert — You have no compunctions about training there, 
provided I get the grounds, have you? 

David — O, certainly not. I would be delighted. 

Gilbert — And you won't line up against me? 

David — Not unless — 



Gilbert— Not unless anything. Now if you won't help, don't 
you hinder. 

Remus— (R.) Mawnin, Mister Gilbert. Pawdon me, sah. 

Gilbert — Pardon you for what? 

Remus — Fur tellin yer dat oman in de garden wants yer 
ter take her hum. 

Gilbert — That is unpardonable, Remus. 

Remus — (Turning R.) Any other message, sah? 

Gilbert — Message, nothing! Don't you tell her that. 

David — (Laughing.) I will give you half a dollar to tell 
her what he said. 

Remus — I got er bid uv fo bits, Mister Gilbert. 

Gilbert — I will make it a dollar not to tell her. 

Remus — Kin yer raise jes once mo, Massar David? 

David — Yes, I will go another half. 

Remus — Goin, goin, goin. Las chance. All done ! 

Gilbert — I am forced to make it two dollars. 

Remus — No yer aint, Mister Gilbert. Yer kin make her 
five, en never feel hit. 

Gilbert — Not and get my money's worth. 

Remus — I thut so. Two, en ergin yer, Massar David. Is 
yer gwine ter quit? Fair warin ! En sold ter Mister Gilbert 
fur two dollars. (Holds out hand.) 

Gilbert — (Pays him.) There, you old grafter. 

Remus — Thank yer, sah. Now I'll tell her. 

Gilbert — What are you going to say? 

Remus — (Chin up.) Dat Mister Gilbert regrets ter keep 
Miss Albans waitin in de garden, but dat IMPORTANT mat- 
ters must come fust — or words to dat effec. Aint dat wuf 
two dollars? 

Gilbert — It ought to be. It would cost your life. 

Remus — Den I wont tell her dat. I'll jes say you's havin 
trouble wid de motor, en hopes ter be ready for her in erbout 
fifteen minutes. (Starts right and turns.) Aint dat er big 
ernuf lie fur two dollars? (Starts and turns again.) Ef dat 
aint perjury nuf, I mought go er leetle f udder en say, you'sc 
sorry ter keep her waitin. (Flinches when door open at his 
back.) Good mawnin, sah. 

Mr. C. — (R.) Good morning, Remus. (Gives hat and 
cane.) Good morning, David. (Ex. Remus R. Boys are 
standing.) 

David — Good morning, Mr. Capell. Have a seat. 

Mr. C. — (Sitting.) Well, David, I suppose Gilbert has given 
you my good news. 

David — Yes, sir. It was good of you to assist us. 

Gilbert — Dad don't do anything by halves, Dave. When he 
starts a thing he sees it through in fine shape. (Behind hand 
to D.) Jump on him for the links. 

Mr. C. — A thing that isn't worth doing well should never 
be undertaken, my boy. Isn't that right, David? 

David — I am sure it is, sir. 

Gilbert—Yes, indeed, it is. (Winks at David.) 

Mr. C. — I am glad to see that you two agree on that point. 
I want you to let it be your motto in this matter of a Train- 
ing Camp. I gave you a great boost before the President, 

6 



and he is expecting great things from you. If you should fail 
to make good it would be very embarrassing to me. But 
you are not going to fail. No sensible man will criticise you, 
md if you are never needed in the regular service you will 
have the benefit of the training and the satisfaction of being 
ready. Personally I like the idea very much, and think the 
country is in great need of just such a spirit of patriotism. I 
am glad to take stock with you and do all I can to make 
your venture a success. You may call on me freely. 

Gilbert — Thanks, dad. We won't hesitate to call on you. 
The first thing on the list is a good place for the training. 
We want the golf links and polo grounds. 

Mr. C— THE GOLF LINKS I Holy smoke, son; why 
didn't you make it the flower garden? 

Gilbert — We didn't want you to make a sacrifice. 

Mr. C. — I see you didn't. O, surely you are joking. I have 
the finest golf links in the world. David isn't there another 
place that would be as good? 

Gilbert — Now, dad, you know David is not going to insist 
on you giving us the links. But I am. If we are to set the 
example for the whole nation we deserve the best place for it. 

Mr. C— But, Gilbert, the President of the United States 
plays golf on my links. What will he do when he comes out 
for a few days of golf and finds the links cut up with cavalry 
horses? 

Gilbert — Well, I will tell you, dad, how I feel about that. 
If he wouldn't be better pleased to see our cavalry training 
on those links, than he would to chase a little old golf ball, 
he is not much of a President, and you wouldn't lose very 
much if he quit coming to see you. If you will turn that 
place over to us, with the club house and stable, we will soon 
have hot only the eyes of the President on those links, but 
the eyes of the nation as well. Won't we, Dave? 

David — We will make an effort to do that. 

Mr. C. — (To D.) So you think that the best place. 

David — It is an ideal place, Mr. Capell, but I realize it is 
asking a great deal of you. 

Gilbert — Just picture it in your mind, dad. A big bright 
American flag floating from the flag pole — the rolling golf 
links and polo grounds resounding with the clatter of trained 
horses' feet. Why you will be prouder of it than anything 
you ever had on these wide acres. 

Mr. C. — Now, son, you let David talk some. 

Gilbert — David is too modest to ask for what he wants. 
O, come on, dad, and be a good sport. Just think of the press 
reports— "Benjamin Capell, the father of PREPAREDNESS, 
donates his famous Aleadow Stream Golf Links and polo 
grounds for a training camp." Won't that be worth it alP 

Mr. C. — Now you are appealing to my vanity. 

Gilbert— Indeed, no. I appeal to your PATRIOTISM. 

Mr. C. — Well, boys, I love my golf links, but I love my 
country more. Preachments without action is very poor pa- 
triotism. (Rises.) I will give you the grounds and agree 
to pay every working man wlio may join you his re^^ular 
wages for the time he trams, provided you will promise to let 



each and every man — including yonrsel-ves — stand and advance 
on his merit. 

Gilbert — We accept the conditions. 

David — And are many times obliged to you. 

Mr. C. — Not at all, boys ; not at all. I am glad to help you 
in a matter w^hich may, and I believe will, be a great blessing 
to yoi' and your children. 

Remus — (R.) Sense me, Massar David, but Henery wants 
ter know whar ter put dem bosses whats jes cum. 

David — Tell him to give them water and wait until I come. 
(To Mr. C.) It is the new percherons. Would you like to 
look them over? 

Mr. C. — O, yes, that thousand dollar pair. Sure I want to 
see them. (Ex. R.) 

David — I think you will find them worth the money. (Go- 
ing R.) Won't you come along, Gilbert? (Ex. R.) 

Gilbert — Yes. I like to look at a good horse. 

Adelle — (L. with Mrs. B.) Is the motor repaired? 

Gilbert — What motor? O, yes, yes, yes. If you are ready 
we will go. 

Adelle — Good-bye, Mrs. Bourne. 

Mrs. B. — Good-bye. I hope to see you again soon. 

Gilbert — Good-bye. I will be back on the first excuse. 

Mrs. B. — You do not need an excuse, Gilbert, 

Gilbert — Thank you. I know it. (Ex. R. with A.) 

Remus — (R.) Miss Mary ef dat brudder er hern done tune 
up no better den she do, I done see how Miss Evelyn kin 
lack him belter 'n she do Massar David. 

Mrs. B. — (Sitting and taking up work.) Remus, don't let 
me speak to you again about meddling in Miss Evelyn's af- 
fairs. She and David are good friends, and that is all they 
can ever be. 

Remus — Yassam, yassam. I begs yo powdon, Miss Mary. 
But de udder day I was out en I see Miss Evelyn an dis Al- 
bans man out ridin. She wus leadin him by bout er mile, 
an he was riding jes lack er monkey at er circus. En I says 
ter ma-sef, ef he cain't keep up no better'n dat, whut she 
want ter marry 'm fur? 

Mrs. B. — You are doing what I said you must not do. 

Remus — Yassam, yassam, Miss Mary. But yer jes ort ter 
se^ Massar David ridin wid her. Fas or slow, he rat dar by 
her side. En she sho duse seem powerful pleased wid life, 
too. (Looks out R.) Yonder she cum now wid dat 
Fl-AS-CO er hern. 

Mrs. 5.— With what? 

Remus — FI-AS-CO. Aint dat whut yer call dem fellers 
whut done closed de deal? 

Mrs. B. — (Laughs.) O, you mean fiance. 

Remus — Wall, now. Miss Mary. I may er had de wrong 
fluctuation on dat word, but I knowed better. Now look 
Massar David done come up, en dat finance man done pay 
him no mind. But she do. She talkin rat straight at 'm. 

Mrs. B. — You silly old negro. She is giving him orders 
frrm her father. Can't you get it into your head that David 
is subjct to her father's orders? 

8 



Remus — Yessam, yassam, Miss Mary. I'se familiar wid 
dat fac, but yer cain't fool me, she gibs dem orders pleasur- 
ably. En she nebber gibs dem ter nobody cept'n Massar David 
hesef. Ef he not heah she goes out en looks fur 'm. En 
ef she done fine 'm she takes dem order back hum wid hcr^ 
She am comin. 

Mrs. B. — Remember, Remus, none of your foolishness. 

Evelyn — (R.) Good morning, Mrs. Bourne. 

Mrs. B. — Come right in. Glad to see you out so early thi/ 
morning. Where is Mr. Alban? 

Evelyn — He went on down to the club for breakfast. I have 
had him out since sunrise without a bite, and the poor fellow 
is about to cave in. 

Mrs. B. — And you shall have a bite, too. 

Evelyn — O, no, Mrs. Bourne. Please do not go to that 
trouble. 

Mrs. B. — It is no trouble at all, dear. David's breakfast is 
waiting. I will divide it with you. 
- Evelyn — But that isn't fair to David. 

Remus — He won't keer, Miss Evelyn. 

Evelyn — I am sure he won't. All right, then, I will be 
honest and confess I am glad of the chance at half of David's 
breakfast. When I am in the country there is nothing quite 
so splendid as a canter in the sweet morning air, then some 
of your good bacon and eggs, hot waffles, honey and sweet 
milk. 

Mrs. B. — That is the bill this morning, and it will be served 
in just a few minutes. (Goes L.) 

Evelyn — And here are some birds I shot yesterday. 

Mrs. B. — O, thank you, so much. There is nothing David 
likes better, unless it is to shoot them. (Ex. L.) 

Remus — In some respects you an Massar David am power- 
ful alike. 

Evelyn — What are some of them? 

Remus — Wall, yer kin ride er hoss lack he kin. 

Evelyn — O, thank you. 

Remus — En you kin play golf en polo lack he kin. 

Evelyn — Do you think so? 

Remus — En yer kin shoot birds lack he kin. 

Evelyn — Better, you mean. 

Remus — Yassam. yassam. En yer loves de urly mawnin 
when de sun am shootin his salute rays at de cloud ships as 
dey passes fum night to nowhere. 

Evelyn — Where did you get that description? 

Remus — Fum Massar David. He got er lot er dat sort 
er dope whut he practices on me. 

Evelyn— Re need not be so stingy with it. I like that sort 
of phraseology myself. 

Remus — All yer got ter do, ah, ah, what did you call dat 
whut I jes said? 

Evelyn — Phraseology. 

Remus — Dats right. I jes wanted ter see ef yer cul two 
time dat big word. Well, ef yer lacks dat frazemcology all 
yer got ter do is ter encourage him jes er leetle. He thinks 

9 



jes <:ase you is rich he caint tell yer de whole truf, lack dat 
Mr. Albans kin. 

Evelyn — Mr. Alban never saw a sunrise. 

Remus — (Quickly.) Massar David have seen erbout five 
thousand. 

Evelyn— Let me see — ^there are three hundred sixty-five 
sunrises in a year — Why, Remus, that would make him but 
thirteen years old. 

Remus — Yassam, yassam. But yer musn't fergit dat at 
least half er Massar David's life ain't had no sunshine, ertall. 

Evelyn— TeW me, Remus, was it a sweetheart of his that 
caused those shadows in his life? 

Remus — No, indeed. Youse got er clear field. 

Johnie—(R.) I want to see the fellow what owns them 
fine dogs out yonder. 

Remus — Deys Miss Capell's dawgs, en dar she am. 

Johnie — I seen them good lookin dogs. Miss, and I thought 
maybe you'd like to buy another one. My dog is a heap 
finer lookin than either of yours, and I will sell him cheap. 

Evelyn — What kind of a dog have you? 

Johnie — He's a high bred dog. 

Evelyn — What is his breedng? 

Johnie — Why, er, er, jes like any other dog. 

Evelyn — Well, then, is he a bird dog, a rabbit dog, a coon 
dog, a deer dog, or a bear ^og"? 

Johnie — He goes all the gates. Miss, and I will take ten 
dollars fur him. 

Evelyn — Where is this dog? 

Johnie — He is at the door. Want to see him? 

Evelyn — Remus, bring him in, please. 

Remus — Now, Miss Evelyn, ef he all de dawg dat boy 
say he am, I'd ruther not BRING him in, en' ef yer 
don't mind, I'll jes LEAD him in. (Ex R.) 

Evelyn — Where did you get this dog? 

Johnie — From some gipsies ; and his name is Nomad. 

Evelyn — Is he a good hunter? 

Johnie — He has to be. He gets his livin that way. 

Remus — (R. Leading fine bird dog.) Dis am a good 
looker, Miss Evelyn. (Hands her the lead.) 

Evelyn — Indeed, he is. Will he retrieve? 
Johnie — Yes, Miss. He TREED jes erwhile ago. 

Evelyn — How did he do when he treed, as you call it? 

Johnie — Why he just jumped round en barked. 

Evelyn — And then? 

Johnie — A rabbit jumped up, and, believe me, he had to 
do some^runnin'. He's got the speed all right. 

Evelyn — Yes. Does he break shot? 

Johnie — The purtiest you ever saw, lady. If you shoot 
at a bird and fail to bring him down, that dog won't let him 
hit the ground in fifteen minutes. 

Evelyn — How is he on backing? 

Johnie — I ain't seen no dog in front of him yet. 

Evelyn — Is he staunch? 

Johnie — I don't get you. 

Evelyn — I mean is he nervous or steady? 

10 



Johnie — Well, I would call him steady, except on a real 
cold day he may shiver just a bit. 

Evelyn — (Laughs.) I shan't blame him for that. 

Remus — Lemme ax him er question, Miss Evelyn. 

Evelyn — Very well. 

Remus — Now tell me who trained dis dawg. 

Jofinie — I trained him myself. 

Remus — I thut so. (To Evelyn.) Dat's all. 

Evelyn — Either you do not know anything about a bird 
dog, or you know this one is worthless. But I am going to 
take a shot at him anyway. Tie him up, Remus. 

Remus — (Going R.) En I specks uer'l take ernudder shot 
at 'm de fust time he tries dat keepin er bird in de air fifteen 
minutes on yer. (Ex. R.) 

David — (R. Turns to look at dog.) 

Evelyn — Well, how do you like my new dog? 

David — If he is as good as he looks he is an exceptional 
dog. But I bet he won't be in it with Pride and Vanity. 
(Crossing to L. C.) 

Evelyn— O, you say that because you trained Pride and 
Vanity. And from what the bay says of this dog, you will 
have to give him a few lessons. 

David — I will gladly do so. Leave him with me and I will 
do the best I can with him. 

Evelyn — You must give him good treatment; for he cost 
me the big sum of ten dollars. And, by the way, I haven't 
paid for him yet. Will you favor me with a loan of that 
amount ? 

David — (Taking bill from wallet.) Certainly. And I con- 
gratulate you on the bargain. 

Evelyn — Thank you. Here, young man. If the dog turns 
out to be a good one, I shall make you a present of a nice 
little gun. 

Johnie — Thank you, Miss. (Ex. R.) 

David — Did you have a good hunt yesterday? 

Evelyn — Well, yes, in a way. Mr. Alban does not love 
the fields as you and I do, and of course he doesn^t make a 
very good hunting companion. I wished for you more than 
once. 

David — That makes up for my having to stay at home. 
How many birds did you and Mr. Alban get? 

Evelyn — I got eleven. Mr. Alban none. 

David — O, he just let you beat him. I have an idea that 
he is a good shot. 

Evelyn — Good shot ! Why, he couldn't hit a flock of cam- 
paign hats. Yesterday he gave out on me before 9 o'clock 
and wanted to come in, but I refused to let him spoil my hunt, 
and as he did not know the way home he was forced to stay 
with me. And, O, let me tell you what happened. Away 
back on the extreme west of our land Vanity found a covey 
with at least twenty in it. I tried to turn them back on 
Meadow Stream, but they went over on Mr. Ragsdale's place. 

David — And because he does not permit hunting you lost 
some very fine shooting. 

11 



Evelyn — Not much. I debated the matter a bit and decided 
they were my birds just visiting on his land. Percy thought 
it was too dangerous and refused to go with me. He hid 
behind the hedge. So I crossed over and went after them — 
looking both ways for Mr. Ragsdale. I found them in some 
stubble on the bank of the river. The first one up went 
straight away. BANG! Missed. And say, David, if ever a 
gunshot was as loud as thunder that was it. I thought Mr. 
Ragsdale would get me sure. But I went over to Vanity's 
point and let up two more. BANG! BANGl And not a 
feather. 

David — I thought you always got feathers. 

Evelyn — O, that is when I am trying to beat you. When 
I am out by myself I am more honest. Then I braced up and 
said, poacher or no poacher, the next one is mine. Right out 
from under my feet went two. They circled over the river 
just in time to fall into it. Then another met the same fate. 

David — Now for the next one. 

Evelyn — Alas I There wasn't any next one. I got a shell 
hung in my gun and the birds seemed to know it; for they 
flushed wild on every hand. I stood there trying to extract 
the shell, when PRESTO 1 

David — There stood Mr. Ragsdale, mad as blazes. What 
did he say? 

Evelyn — (Imitating a man.) "Look a-here, young lady. 
Didn't you know I don't allow no shoot-tin in here?" 

David — Why didn't you say you followed those birds out 
of your own field. 

Evelyn — The first thing that flashed into my mind was a 
little story, and I let him have it. I said, "Er, er, I didn't 
suppose you would care if I shot a few of these RABBITS." 

David — Great Scotts ! 

Evelyn — And you should have seen the change that came 
over him. He smiled like a father and said, "Now, I beg 
yore pardon. You are doin' me a great favor. These rabbits 
are ruinin' my trees. I hope you kill a thousand. 

David — What did he think of those liver and white pointers 
you had with you. 

Evelyn — That is where the joke comes in. He had not 
seen them. They were in the river after the birds I had shot. 
But just when he was about to turn away they appeared — each 
with one of his big fat quails in his mouth. They went 
straight up to him and sat down to deliver the birds, then, 
seeing their mistake, wheeled and looked for me. I cannot 
account for them going to him unless they thought it was you. 

David — Really now, do I look that much like him? 

Evelyn — Well, now David, a bird dog, with his eyes full of 
weed seeds, MIGHT make such a mistake — especially when 
they love you as my dogs do. I wish it had been you ; for he 
stood there looking me straight in the eye, and I thought he 
was debating whether he would tell me I was a liar, or throw 
me in the river. I never said a word, but just took the birds 
and stood there smoothing their feathers, waiting for the 
storm to break. Then he cleared his throat, and I jumped 
over one of the dogs. This seemed to be just the right thing 

12 



to do; for he smiled and said, "If I ain't mistaken, you arc 
Benjamin Capell's daughter, ain't you?" I said I was, and 
that daddy would pay him for any damages. "O, that is all 
right," he said. "You just go ahead and shoot all the RAB- 
BITS you want to — but I must insist that you tie up these 
dogs. They are ketchin all my quail." 

David — If old man Ragsdale is that sort of a chap, I am 
glad I resemble him. 

Evelyn — O, by the way, I have news for you. 

David — Good or bad? 

Evelyn — Good tor me, and bad for you. 

David — How is that? 

Evelyn — I am to have half of your breakfast. 

David — That is not bad news. When do I have that pleas- 
ure? 

Evelyn — Just as soon as it is announced. 

Remus — (L.) Miss Mary say de quail on toast', hot waffles, 
honey en sweet milk am served. 

David— QUAIL ON TOAST! What quail? 

Evelyn — (Going L,, followed by David.) Old man Rags- 
dale's quail. 

QUICK CURTAIN. 
ACT II. 

SCENE — Same as Act I. One year later. Stage setting 
same as Act I, except a large American flag in back, concealed 
by small curtains. 

Remus — (Seated in center, polishing a sword.) Now I 
think dat'l pass inspection. Youse purty en bright now, but 
ef dem fellers keeps on pesterin Uncle Sam I specks yer'l 
be all splotched up wid blood purty soon. Massar David 
sho do know how ter use yer, en he got de backbone ter git 
behind yer. En Mister Gilbert all rat, too, but, man erlive, 
yer jes ort ter see Miss Evelyn handle dem cavalry. She 
been trainin wid em de whole year, en knows all erbout it. 
En ef dey 'd jes let her buckle er swode on en git out in 
funt er dem cavalry an tell em how dey could bottle up er 
cyclone. I sho wus proud er her en Massar David de udder 
day when de President en dem big bugs fum Washington wus 
down ter see de sham battle. She tuck Mister Gilbert's men 
en fought ergin Massar David. De good Lawd ain't nebber 
let dis ole nigger see er grander sight den she wus when she 
swung dat big bunch er bosses en men roun ober dem links 
fur de las and final charge. She wus out in funt wavin her 
swode, en dat big black mar er hern wus white wid foam 
wid her mouf wide open. En when dey got down to de fete 
whut Massar David was defendin he run up er white flag en 
handed her his swode. Den she marched him an all er his 
men up to de stan whar de President wus en saluted, en said : 
"Sir, here am all uv de "enemy, cept'n de killed en wounded." 
Den dat President, wid his hat in his ban said somepin erbout 
er Maid in New Orleans, en Jonah in de ark, en er whole lot 
er fine stuff bout men whut wus brave, en how er oman cud 
lead em into anything. En den he paid his respects to dem 
wid er yaller streak — all de time pintin his finger rat at dat 
Albans man. En when it wus all ober I heard him ask Miss 

13 



Evelyn's daddy who trained dem men en bosses. Den Mister 
Gilbert spoke up en said David Bourne. Den de President 
wrote somepin in er leetle book. I tell yer, folks, Massar 
David BOUND ter rise. 

Mrs. B. — (L.) Bring some more chairs, Remus. Miss 
Evelyn and her friends will meet here this afternoon to or- 
ganize the Loyalty Club. 

Remus — Whut am dat fur, Miss Mary? 

Mrs. B. — The angry war clouds are gathering and she is 
getting ready to meet the conditions that may arise. 

Remus — (Going L.) She'l meet em all rat. (Meets David 
and hands him sword.) Am dat all rat? 

David — That is very nice. (Snaps sword on.) 

Mrs. B. — What is the latest news, David. 

David — The President is doing everything in his power to 
avert war, and we must hope he may succeed ; but the ten- 
sion is great and may break any time. 

Mrs. B. — O, I hope it can be settled peaceably. 

David — So do I, mother, (Crosses and faces from R.) 
But the American conscience is smarting under the indignities 
that have ben heaped upon us ; and if it comes to the propo- 
sition that we must sacrifice so much as a single ripple of 
Old Glory in order merely to maintain an ignoble peace and 
make a few more dollars, I feel certain there can be no 
peace until the sacred principles of our hero fathers are again 
transcribed in blood. 

Evelyn— {I.., followed by Percy.) BRAVO! BRAVO I 
That was a splendid speech, David, and I am sure it was an 
honest expression of an honest heart. 

David — (Turning and smiling.) If it was not, it is now. 
Good morning, Mr. Alban. 

Percy — Howdy, Bourne. 

Evelyn — Gilbert has some important news from Wash- 
ington, and requests you to come to the drill ground imme- 
diately. My car is waiting to take you down. 

David — Thank you. Mother, that may mean that we arc 
under orders, and if so, I will spend the night with the men. 

Mrs. B. — (Going R.) Come by my room before you go. 

David — Yes, mother. (Ex. Mrs. B. R.) Mr. Alban, 
would you care to drive down and see the cavalry do some 
real war practice? 

Percy — Now, my dear fellow, that sort of rot is a dreadful 
bore to me, don't-you-know. I prefer to remain with the 
ladies. Moreover, J can't afford to lend my presence to a 
thing that would cause me a financial loss. I am. for peace 
at any price. 

David — That is my position exactly, Mr. Alban, except that 
I am willing to pay the price. (Ex. R.) 

Evelyn — Percy, if I were a real live patriotic man like 
David, I am afraid I would call you a coward. 
Percy — Really? (Remus L. with rosebud.) 

Remus — Ain't dat er beauty, Miss Evelyn? 

Evelyn — It is beautiful. A bud on the verge of rosehood.. 
It is lovely. 

14 



Remus — Yassam. Dat's de way I felt erbout it, but I 
didn't know how ter say it. I'se been savin her jes specially 
fer you. (Offers it.) 

Evelyn — For me ! This is good of you, Remus. Thank you 
ever so much. (Smells it and places to Percy's nose.) O, 
Percy, isn't it just lovely? 

Remus— (Aside.) Now dat spiles hit all. 

Percy — Where is mine, old man? 

Remus — Yore's ain't bloomed yit. (Examines hand.) 

Evelyn — What is the matter with your hand? 

Remus — Dat rose scratched de fiah outen me. Ebry time 
I goes fumblin' round em I gits stuck. Why done dey invent 
er rose widout dem stickers? 

Evelyn — It takes the thorns to make the roses sweet. You 
see, Remus, it is this way: When God made the rose so 
beautiful He knew every hand would wish to pluck it. So He 
placed the thorns there for its protection. 

Remus — Dat soun's lack did preparedness whut Massar 
David been wukin on fur de las year. Done it? 

Evelyn — That is it exactly. And today he stands as a thorn 
ready to prick the ruthless hands that desire to shatter the 
fair red rose of liberty. 

Remus — Whut you gwine ter do ef dey is called? 

Evelyn— I shall be dreadfully lonely. 

Percy — O, I say, dear, you will have me. 

Remus — Ain't yer gwine wid em? 

Percy — I should say not. Let the menials and unemployed 
do the fighting. The peace zone for me. 

Remus — You better not tell Massar David dat. 

Percy — What do you mean by that, old man? 

Remus— ]ts whut 1 said. Dat ef yer tells Massar David 
dat nobody but MEMIUMS goes ter war, you'l find yosef 
straddle er de WAR ZONE rat now. 

Evelyn— (Xookmg R.) The girls are coming. Remus take 
their horses, please. 

Remus — Yassam, yassam, Miss Evelyn. (E,x. R.) 

Evelyn — Now, Percy, we wish to organize our club. 

Percy— Is that a hint for me to go? 

Evelyn — Well, not exactly, but since you did not care to 
join the guards I did not suppose you would care to join us. 

Percy — Evelyn, I wish you would not waste so much of 
your time on all this rot. It is robbing me of my pleasure, 
and that isn't fair. Besides, you are neglecting your social 
duties. I am afraid if you are not more careful our set will 
laugh at you. 

Evelyn — What are my social duties compared with my duty 
to these brave men who are willing to risk their lives for me ? 
You call it rot— I call it quite a different thing. Let my 
silly social set laugh, if they feel like it. It won't change my 
plans in the least. 

Percy — Why don't you organize this club in your set? 

Evelyn — For the simple reason that they do laugh at it. 

Percy — And these simple country girls do not. 

Evelyn — I resent the insinuation that these girls are not 
all that is good and noble. And I want you to understand 

15 



that I am casting my lot with them unreservedly. Anything 
that interferes must wait. 

Percy — Meaning our marriage, of course? O, come now, 
Evelyn, you know I could not afford to have my wife carry- 
ing the burden of the War Department on her shoulders, 
don't-you-know. 

Evelyn — (Laughs.) Now, you are foolish. 

Percy — No, I am not. You seem to think the country is 
going to the demnition bow-wows. What if it should? My 
wealth is secure and we can live in luxury. 

Evelyn — I have great wealth, too, Percy, but all I have and 
all you have, without the underlying consciousness of having 
done what I knew to be right, could not make me happy. 

Percy — O, what a preachment! I should expect such stuff 
as that from someone who had everything to gain and noth- 
ing to lose — Some fellow like Bourne, don't-you-know. 

Evelyn — Mr. Bourne has a clean life and noble heart to 
lose, and he values them far more than your stocks and 
bonds, but less than he does his sense of duty. 
I have the hig-hest regrard for him. 

Percy — I am beginning to think so. You seem to enjoy 
his company more than any one's else. If he is such a fine 
fellow I shall cultivate him. 

Evelyn — I advise you to do just that. It will help you, as 
it has me, to a higher conception of the important things 
of life. 

Percy — Bah Jovel Now I see why you have been neg- 
lecting me for Bourne. I suppose I should recognize him as 
a rival and treat him as such. 

Evelyn — You are at liberty to draw your own conclusions, 
but please do not complain. 

Percy — O, I wasn't complaining, dear. I was just getting 
scared. Here come the girls. There are some good-lookers 
in the bunch. May I stay and meet them? 

Evelyn — Certainly. I want you to. (Enter R. Dorris, 
Nell and Theda.) Good afternoon, girls. I am glad to see 
you. This is my friend, Mr. Alban, Miss Johnston. 

Dorris — (Advancing to meet him, affably and hand ex- 
tended in good form.) I am very glad to meet you, Mr. 
Alban. 1 

Percy — (Taking her hand.) Glad to hear you say so. 

Evelyn — Miss Ragsdale. 

Nelle — (Same.) Why, how do you do, Mr. Alban. I have 
heard my father speak of you. 

Percy — Your father ! I do not know him. 

Nelle — Weren't you with Miss Capell the day he com- 
plained about her shooting his birds? 

Percy — O, and he's your father ! I didn't think he saw me. 

Dorris — You hid behind the hedge, didn't you? 

Percy — Did I? Well, I believe in safety first. 

Evelyn — And this is Miss Rosemon. 

Theda — (Same.) Pleased to meet you. 

Percy — I am glad to know you. Miss Rosemon. Have I 
been shooting any of your birds? 

Theda — If not, I invite you to do so. 

16 1 



Evelyn — (Going L.) If he has, Theda, you have none the 
less birds ; for he has yet to draw his first feather. (All 
laugh.) I will find Mrs. Bourne. (Ex. L.) 

Nell — Are you not a good shot, Mr. Alban? (All sit.) 

Percy — Well, ah, not with a gun, girls, but I am about as 
good as anybody with a billiard cue. 

D orris — They do not use billiard cues in war, do they? 

Percy — They will be when I go to war, girls. 

Nelle — Are you not a member of the Guards? 

Percy — Not guilty, I assure you. 

Theda — You don't mean that you think it is an unworthy 
organization, I hope. 

Percy — O, not exactly that. It is all right, I suppose, for 
those who have nothing else to do. 

Dorris — Do you think, Mr. Alban, that a man has any- 
thing to do that is more important than the honor and safety 
of his country? 

Percy — I think he should first take care of himself. Really, 
girls, I am having too good a time to think of war. I would 
rather pay some poor fellow to do my fighting. 

Nelle — Under that standard you may gain many pleasures, 
Mr. Alban, but not very much respect. 

Theda — (Pleasantly.) I think I shall send you an enlarged 
copy of the Declaration of Independence. 

Dorris — And as my contribution to the praiseworthy work 
of saving your self-respect, I shall send you a copy of the 
Star-Spangled Banner. 

Percy — (Rising.) This is very interesting, girls, and 
I would enjoy more of it; but I have an engagement and 
must leave you. (At door R.) I hope it won't be long until 
each of you has a real live soldier boy for your very own. 
(Exit quickly R.) 

Nelle — "Ye see yon birkie ca'd 'a lord/ 

Theda — Who struts, an' stares, an' a* that? 

Dorris — Tho hundreds worship at his word, 

Nelle — He's but a cuif for a* that. 

Theda — For a' that, an' a' that, 

Dorris — The man o' independent mind, 

Nelle — He looks and laughs at a' that." 

Theda — How on earth can Miss Capell admire him? 

Dorris — She doesn't admire, she just ENDURES him. 

Nelle — (Laugh.) I think you are right, Dorris. She just 
endures him. Pretty much as one admires a button-hole that 
is a wee bit too large, and not quite large enough to be 
mended. 

Theda — Don't worry, girls; Miss Capell will never marry 
a button-hole. 

Dorris — Sh-h-h. She is coming. (Mrs. B. and E. L.) 

Mrs. B. — Good afternoon, girls. You are all here and on 
time. That is nice. 

Evelvn — What did you do with Percy? 

Theda — He said he had an engagement. 

Evelyn — That is good.; He won't be in the way. Now, 
Mrs. Bourne, you be chairman, and tell us how to proceed. 
(All sit, Mrs. B. in center.) 

17 



Mrs. B. — I am glad to do anything I can to promote the 
happiness and comfort of the Meadow Stream Guards. First, 
let us understand what it is we wish to do, and then we can 
plan how to do it. Evelyn, we would like to know your 
idea as to what we should do. 

Evelyn — I have but one idea, Mrs. Bourne, and I fear I 
should go wandering if I undertook to find words to express 
how that one idea is so every way filled with my love and 
devotion. I am ready with the best I have to do as much 
as possible for the soldier who is willing to defend me. (Girls 
applaud.) 

Mrs. B. — I expected to hear you say just that, Evelyn. 
Now, Nelle, let us hear from you. 

Nelle — If you had called on me first, Mrs. Bourne, I should 
have given a poor expression to my views on this matter 
that is very near my heart. But with the inspiration of Miss 
Capell's loyalty I am brave to say that the two extremes of 
my nature are to hate a coward and love a hero. And I 
hope by my loyal support to show how great those extremes 
are. 

Mrs. B. — It is very evident that we shall not lack any 
loyalty. Now, Dorris. 

Dorris — First let me disavow any intention of revealing my 
heart in pleasing words such as we have just heard. Not 
because it is not dedicated to the high ideals of this club, 
but because it is sad and loves solitude. I foresee a great 
struggle, and I mean to be able to feel when it shall have 
been won, and we enjoy again the peace we love so much, 
that I reserved nothing when the fight was on. 

Mrs. B. — This unremitting strain of patriotism is good to 
hear. Now, Theda, we have saved the best for the last. 

Theda — Indeed, no. Not the best, but what I have and 
am I commit unreservedly to the Loyalty Club, to do with 
as you think best in order that the world may better under- 
stand tht full meaning of Old Glory, and never again dare 
to question her strength and purity, and her unqualified 
right to wave over the land of the free and the home of the 
brave. 

Mrs. B. — (Rising.) I am sure the Meadow Stream Guards 
will prove themselves worthy of the best we can give. Every 
mother and sister and friend of these brave boys will wish to 
joia w, in letting them know that in the homes they are fight- 
ing fcr theic are loving hands at work to make them com- 
fortable, and hearts as true as steel loving and praying and 
waiting for them. I invite you to meet with me one week 
from today, ^nd thereafter to make my home the home of 
the club. (Enter Remus, L., with telegram.) 

Remus — Miss Mary heah am a telegram whut de boy say 
nobody kin sign fur cep'n Massar David heself. (Enter 
D-'vid and Gilbert, R.) Heah he am rat now. Massar David 
heah am a telegram fum Washington whut yer got ter sign 
CAPTAIN DAVID BOURNE ter. 

David — (Signing.) That sounds like war. (Reads.) 
"Enemy ships approaching New York. Proceed there with 

18 



all possible dispatch. Already Statue of Liberty has been 
shattered with a shell." 

Mrs. B. — O, my boy, does that mean war? 

David— Yes, mother. What else could it mean until that 
statu*, is built back again ? But you must remember that you 
have always taught me that the bravest suffer least. 

Mrs. B.—l shall try to remember that. (Turns slowly and 
exits L.) 

David — Gilbert, how soon can we start? 

Gilbert — We are ready. 

David — Yes; thank heaven, we are; and I can write this 
answer as I would have it. (Writes hurriedly, reading) 
"We are IN THE SADDLE." (Hands message to Remus, 
who exits L.) Gilbert, please rush to the links and give the 
order to start in one hour. 

Gilbert— Girls, my car is waiting at the door. If you wish 
to say good-by, I will take you with me. 

GtV/j— (Nearly together.) Thank you so much. (Ext. 
Dorris, Nelle, Theda and Gilbert, R.) 

Remus — (L.) Massar David, lemme go wid yer. 

Evelyn — Do, David. It can easily be arranged, and if there 
is any expense I want to bear it. 

David — That is good of you. I will arrange it if I can. 
(To Remus.) Saddle my horse and bring him out at once. 

Remus — He am still powerful lame fum dat fall. 

David — No matter. I cannot take on a green horse now. 

Evelyn — Take Black Bess. She is trained and strong and 
swift, and may bear you out of danger. 

David — You love her too dearly for me to think of seeing 
her butchered in the army service. 

Evelyn — I do love her. That is why I give her to you. I 
can take your horse and love him. 

Remus — Ah'l go en change em. (Ex. R.) 

David — I fear I shall be embarrassed with the finest mount 
in the army; but I promise you I shall not let it prevent me 
from doing my duty. 

Evelyn — I do not doubt that. (Takes off locket and goes 
closer.) I shall miss you, David, far more than I dare try 
to express. (Kisses locket and gives it.) I want you to 
wear this for me and never forget that my prayers and the 
best that is in me are with you always. (Offers hand.) 
Good-bye. 

David — (Holding her hand.) If I never see you again I 
want you to know that the loftiest purpose of my life shall 
be to prove myself grateful for this expression of your 
esteem. Good-bye. 

Evelyn — Good-bye, and may the good God bless you and 
keep you safe. (Turns R. and ex.) 

David — (Looking after her, then at locket.) "I want you 
to wear this for me, and never forget that my prayers and 
the best that is in me are with you always." (Opens locket.) 
Her picture. O, if I could only dare believe she really cares! 
But I must accept it as from a true and loyal friend. ^ (Places 
in pocket over heart.) It shall be my armor and shield, and 
I swear to bear it like a man. 

19 



Mrs. B. — (L., small Bible in hand. Places her hands on 
David's shoulders and looks him in face short space.) O, 
David, will I ever see your dear face again? 

David — I hope so, mother; but if not, I know you will 
find comfort in the fact that I went down in defense of the 
flag. 

Mrs. B. — There is no comfort for a mother's heart when 
her boy is facing death — even tho she knows it is his duty. 

David — Do not think of death, mother. You must think 
of life, and the time when we shall return, not all of us, per- 
haps, but enough to bring you glad tidings of peace. 

Mrs. B. — My heart is breaking, my boy, but I bid you go 
and show yourself a man. Here is the great standard, the 
Holy Bible. Let it be your standard, and may the great 
Captain of our souls lead you thru your duty and bring you 
back home again. 

David — The most precious thing in all the world to me, 
mother, is that I can always be certain of your tender love 
and devotion. And remembering these, I ' can never be a 
coward. Nothing but the CALL OF THE FLAG could take 
me from you. It has come and I am ready to give my blood, 
if need be, to wash the stain from Old Glory. Good-bye. 
(Takes her in his arms. They should be in center of stage, 
close to back, while small curtains concealing flag are drawn. 
This should place them in relief against the flag. Bugle call 
"To arm" off right. Slew curtain. Orchestra or piano 
striking up "Star Spangled Banner." Audience may or may 
not take up song and sing it. If encored show Mrs. Bourne 
kneeling at right of flag, with David left, sword drawn over 
her and pointing to flag.) 

SLOW CURTAIN. 

ACT III 

SCENE — Colonel Bourne's headquarters at the front, two 
years later. This may be either a tent or room. The room 
is better. Set stage small table or desk, back center with 
chair behind it. Chair left. Doors R. and L. Window back. 

Capt. Ross — (Seated back of table. Remus extreme R., 
polishing a shoe, or boot.) Well, Remus, are you glad the 
war is about over? 

Remus — Yassar, yassar, Cap'n Ross. But I'se had er purty 
good time fus en las. You officers sho has been good ter 
me, en I gwine ter miss yer when we seprates. But er cose 
I'd be powerful glad ter see Miss Mary. (Gets busy with 
shoe.) 

Capt. R. — You think a lot of Miss Mary, don't you? 

Remus — She am de onliest oman in de world. En I sho 
is proud er Massar David, too. 

Capt. R. — Why don't you call him Colonel Bourne? 

Remus — Dat do soun powerful fine, en I lacks ter heah 
udder folks call him dat. But, somehow, hit done spress 
mah feelins. An I reggin ef he gits ter be president er de 
United States he'l jes be Massar David ter me. Is you 
heard fum Mister Gilbert terday? 

Capt. R. — Do you mean Major Capell? 

20 



Remus — Er cose. I fergits ter put de handle to 'm. 

Capt. R. — O, he is doing nicely. 

Geft. Woodson — (L. Capt. R. stands at attention and sa- 
lutes.) Good morning, Captain. 

Capt. R. — Good morning, General Woodson. 

Gen. W. — Where is Colonel Bourne? 

Capt. R. — He left at sunrise with only a few men to inves- 
tigate a report that a band of outlaws was operating in the 
vicinity of Tucon. 

Gen'l W. — That is a barbarous gang. I hope he does not 
engage them unless he has plenty of men. 

Capt. R. — Do you think I should take a squadron and go 
to his assistance? 

Gen'l W. — (Sits L.) O, he will show up presently. The 
War College meets at 2 o'clock, and if he is not here then 
we may know that he is in serious trouble. In that case 
take every man in his regiment and proceed at once to Tucon. 

Capt. R. — Yes, sir. How is Major Capell? 

Gen'l W. — Major Capell will be here presently. 

Cipt. R. — I thought he was badly wounded. 

Gen'l W. — This is Major Evelyn Capell. 

/?.?wwj— (Jumping up.) Miss Evelyn heah ! 

Gen'l W. — Sle arrived at the hospital last night and will 
be here in a few minutes. Do you know her, Remus .'' 

Remus — Deed I does. En she knows me, too. 

Capt. R. — Did she come alone? 

Gen'l W. — Her maid and a man came with her; but so far 
as the mr.n i<; concerned she is very much alone. 

Remus — (To Aud.) Now dats dat Albans man. 

Capt. R. — What is the matter with him? 

Gen'l W. — O, he is all right, I suppose, but he strikes me 
a- being under the standard — just a parasite living on that 
girl's beauty and greatness. 

Capt. R. — He is very rich and popular. 

Gen'l W. — No matter. He doesn't measure up. 

Capt. R. — I think you have him sized up about right. But 
tell me what >ou meant by MAJOR EVELYN Capell. 

Gen'l W. — Well, that involves a good joke on me, but I will 
tell it. Early this morning I was on my way to the hospital 
to show my respects to her brother, and met a strange young 
lady wearing a sword. She saluted very properly and asked 
where she might find General Woodson. I introduced my- 
self and she then asked my permission to visit Colonel 
Bourne at the front. When I asked if she were his sister, 
she blushed and said, "No, I am his friend, and I wish to 
show him my sword and shoulder straps." I granted her 
permission to come, but I added that I could not permit her 
to wear her make-up, unless she were indeed a major. 

Capt. 7?.— Don't you think, General, that whether she has 
a commission or not her services to the country entitle her 
to every military courtesy? 

Gen'l W. — Indeed I do. and if I had known she were the 
MAID OF MEADOW STREAM who has trained so many 
faultless troopers for us, I should have saved myself the 
embarrassment. But I had never seen her, and she did not 

21 



tell me her name. So there was nothing for me to do but 
ask for her credentials. 

Capt. R. — Did she have any? 

Gen' I W. — Did she? (Hands large folded sheet.) You 
may judge for yourself. 

Capt. 7?.— (Reading.) The President of the United States 
of America — Greeting — Know all men by these presents, that, 
whereas in a great crisis when every loyal son of this nation 
was needed on the firing line there has arisen a beautiful 
and brave young woman who has trained and equipped three 
whole companies of volunteers for service in the United 
States cavalry, and whereas these three companies have dis- 
tinguished themselves on the field of battle, and share richly 
in the glorious triumph of our arms, and whereas I regard 
no honor too great for her, I do hereby confer on Miss 
Evelj^n Capell the honorary title of Major of the Meadow 
Stream Guards, and as a further mark of my personanl ap- 
preciation and gratitude I present her with a sword which 
shall entitle her to full military honors," and it is signed 
by the President I 

Remus — Hurray! (Ex. R.) 

Capt. R. — General, she deserves every bit of it. What did 
you say to this. 

Gen'l W. — I apologized, of course, and gave her my horse 
anl permission to go where she pleased. And she pleased 
to come here to see Colonel Bourne. And now I propose to 
let h'^r review her guards this afternoon, 

Capt. R. — 1 am sure nothing would please her more. I 
hope Colonel Bourne returns in time to lead his men ; for 
there is not a man in the wide world who would find greater 
pleasure in doing her honor. And I am inclined to believe 
that there is no one she would be more pleased to have do so. 

Gen'l W. — I thought so. The lucky dog! (Three cheers 
off L.) She is coming. (Looks out window back.) My 
she looks good on that horse. Just look how high the old 
booger is stepping. (Capt. R. is busy "primping.") And 
there goes Remus with his hat in his hand 

Capt. R. — Shall we meet her? 

Gen'l W. — It is too late now. She is coming. (They stand 
at attention and salute with their swords.) 

Evelyn — (L. Pauses at door and touches her hat lightly.) 
It is mighty nice of you to show me that respect, Captain 
Ross, but I prefer that you regard me as of old, and shake 
hands with me. (Offers hand.) How are you? 

Capt. R. — I am perfectly happy to see you again, and to 
have this opportunity to express my admiration for the great 
work you have done, and most especially for the many com- 
forts the Loyalty Club has provided. 

Evelyn — What I have done is quite too small for such 
splendid praise. (Enter Percy, L.) Have you met Mr. Alban? 

Capt. R. — I have not had that pleasure. 

Evelyn — Percy this is Captain Ross. Captain Ross, Mr. 
Alban. 

Capt. R. — (Offers hand.) How do you do, sir? 

Percy — My dear man I am most uncomfortable. The 

22 



scenes in that dreadful hospital have quite unnerved me, 
don't yer know. 

Genl. W. — Miss Capell seems to have come through with a 
pretty good nerve. A man should be as brave as a woman. 

Evelyn — Where is Colonel Bourne? 

Genl. W. — As usual, he is out bearding the lion in his den. 
He has his heart set on exterminating that gang to avenge 
your brother's wound. He should have been back before 
now, and if he doesn't show up pretty soon we shall be send- 
ing a relief to him. 

Percy — O, he won't need any assistance. He is only flirt- 
ing with some fair maid who is crazy about a uniform, don't 
yer know. A squadron of cavalry would be a perfect nui- 
sance. Eh, Evelyn? 

Evelyn — I think the maid would feel that way about it. 

Percy — Now, Capt. Ross, don't you think that is unfair to 
me? 

Capt. R. — If I thought so it would be very poor form for 
me to express an opinion contrary to my superior officer. 

Percy — O, hang this war etiquette. It gets on my nerves. 

Genl. IV. — You will find, Mr. Alban, that if you permit 
your nerves to become too prominent they will most assur- 
edly get shocked here at the front. Miss Capell, if you would 
like to see more of the army I will deem it a great honor to 
accompany you. 

Evelyn — O, thank you, General. 

Genl. W. — Would you care to go, Mr. Alban? 

Percy — It doesn't interest me. I will wait here. 

Genl. W. — Very well, sir. (Ex. with E. L.) 

Percy — This is the most foolish trip of my long travels. 

Capt. R. — You were not forced to make it, I hope. 

Percy — Well, not exactly that. But I could not persuade 
Evelyn not to do it, and I felt that I should come along to 
protect her, don't yer know. 

Capt. R. — That was very gallant of you ; but were there no 
other men in your community? 

Percy — Very few, my dear man. When Evelyn let it be 
known that she would train them every son-of-a-gun in the 
county enlisted. She has been wasting her entire time on the 
work, but it is due her to say that she developed a wonderfully 
well trained body of men. Then she notified the War De- 
partment and of course they were only too glad to take the 
poor devils and send them out here to be shot. 

Capt. R. — You are very generous to give her that credit. 
And, by the way, those men she trained got here about the 
same time as a certain commission from Washington making 
a Colonel of Major Bourne. So you see we were able to 
hold our unit, men and commander, all from Meadow Stream. 

Percy — You don't think this fellow Bourne's — 

Capt. R. — COLONEL Bourne, if you please. 

Percy — Very well. This fellow's — 

Capt. R.—l want to hear you say COLONEL BOURNE. 

Pfrry— COLONEL Bourne, then. I want to know whether 
his commission as colonel of these very men Evelyn tramed 
was issued to him at her request. 

23 



Capt. R. — 1 would not answer thrl if I could. But I feel 
safe in saying Miss Capell will not be displeased when she 
learns how Colonel Bourne has conducted himself before 
those men. And if I am not greatly mistaken she is just the 
sort to give a man who is brave, and has a high regard for 
the right, her full admiration. 

Percy — Ah, my dear fellow, permit me to make grateful 
acknowledgment of that nice compliment. 

Capt. R. — You are entirely welcome, but I meant to com- 
pliment Miss Capell. 

Percy — Quite so. I understood it that way. It was as her 
future husband that I made acknowledgment of your kind 
words concerning her. 

Ccpt. R. — Permit me to congratulate you. I do not think 
I ever saw a man who deserved it more. 

Percy — Quite so, and ah, ah, this Colonel Bourne. He has 
been bearing himself fairly decently, I presume. 

Capt. R. — Well, he has managed to get by, but sometimes 
I wonder if — but that wouldn't interest you. 

Percy — O, my dear man, don't hesitate to say it. I shall not 
let Miss Capell know. Besides it wouldn't interest her in the 
least, don't yer know. 

Capt. R. — Yes, I know. Well if you promise not to men- 
tion it to your fiance, I will finish what I started to say. 

Percy — (Anxiously.) Don't keep me waiting . 

Capt. R. — I started to remark that I do not see how a man 
of his bravery and sense of duty can possibly stop short of a 
General before he is thirty years old. . 

Percy — Ah, do you know, I sometimes wish I had made a 
soldier. 

Capt. R. — It takes more than a selfish desire to make such 
a soldier as Colonel Bourne. (Rises.) I must ask you to 
make yourself at home while I go to headquarters with some 
reports. I hope to return before Miss Capell does, but if I 
do not say for me that General Woodson has issued orders 
permitting the Maid of Meadow Stream to review her guards 
this afternoon at three o'clock, and that Colonel Bourne will 
be Jiere to lead them ; or, if not, his entire regiment will be 
sent to his relief. (Ex. L.) 

Percy — (Sits on corner of table.) O hang this confounded 
war business. War stock is going up like a rocket and I seem 
to be the only bear on the market. I must get busy. First, 
Evelyn must not know of the General's orders. Certainly 
won't learn it from me. Second, I must prevent any relief 
being sent to Bourne. Let the savages have him. Third, 1 
must get her away from here and get married before this 
war is over. O, that all seems easy enough. 

Remus — (L. with letters. Looks at letters, taking one and 
holding it to his nose and whiffing.) Dat 'n am fum Miss 
Evelyn. I cain't read but I knows de smell. (Advances to 
desk.) Erscuse me, sah, but ah wants ter git in dat draw. 
(Produces key.) 

Percy — (Moving aside.) What is it, old man? 

24 



Retnus— Ah got some mail fur Massar David, en I wants ter 
lock hit up. 

Percy — Just leave it in my care. 

Remus— I'd lack ter do dat, but I reggin I better mind 
Massar David. (Locks drawer.) 

Percy — Go find Miss Capell, and say I am waiting. 

i^^mw^— Yassar. I'se alius glad to take er message ter 
Miss Evelyn. (Ex. L.) 

Percy — (Examines drawer.) I saw a letter from Evelyn 
in that mail. I wonder what she has to say to this fellow 
Bourne. (Pulls at drawer. It opens.) Why, that was easy. 
The negro failed to lock it. I thought so. This is one letter 
that went astray in the mails. (Opens and reads.) "Dear 
David." She is darn familiar with her father's farm man- 
ager. "When this reaches you I will be at the front with 
Gilbert, and shall be disappointed if I do not have the pleas- 
ure of seeing you while there. I know you are treating 
Gilbert, as we would be delighted to treat you if you were 
here and wounded as he is. That is, with the tenderest care 
and affection. Hurriedly. Evelyn." Now that is what I call 
shooting the brass buttons off a soldier's coat. "Hurriedly, 
Evelyn." I wonder what she would have said if she had not 
been in a hurry. (Puts letter in pocket, throwing envelope to 
floor.) I think it would be better not to let this letter go 
on the market just now; for if it reaches Bourne war stock 
will advance another ten thousand points, and then I KNOW, 
I can't margin what little I have. O, hang BOURNE! 

Evelyn — (L. followed by Remus.) What a grand time I 
have had. The boys seemed about as glad to see me as I 
was to see them. And that dear horse of the General's 1 
I could ride him all day. 

Percy — What did you do with the General? 

Evelyn — He had to go to headquarters for a war council. 
Where is Captain Ross? 

Percy — He has gone to headquarters, too. 

Evelyn — Did he leave any word for me? 

Percy — O, I believe he did say he was sorry to go without 
seeing you again. He left me in command here. 

Evelyn — O, what a joke. What would you do if the enemy 
should attack? 

Percy — What would I do? Why,^ I would send these poor 
devils out to shoot him to pieces, of course. 

Evelyn — Send them out! A BRAVE commander would 
LEAD them out. 

Percy — You don't anticipate an attack, I hope. 

Evelyn — No, but the unexpected usually happens. 

Percy — I say. Evelyn, don't you think we had better go 
back to New'awk? 

Evelyn — Don't worry, Percy, I will protect you. I wonder 
why Colonel Bourne does not return. 

Percy — Why don't you just come out and say you are 
waiting to see him? 

Evelyn — (Laughs.) Because I am enough like George 
Washington already; and if I get to telling nothing but the 
truth I am afraid they will make me commander-in-chief. 

25 



Percy — I have some bad news for you. 

Evelyn — (Alarmed.) Is Gilbert worse? 

Percy — O, no. 

Evelyn — Colonel Bourne hurt? 

Percy — Naw. I have been called to New'awk. 

Evelyn — Why, that isn't bad news. 

Percy — When will you be ready to start? 

Evelyn — Sorry to see you go, Percy, but I am going to re- 
main out here just as long as they will let me. 

Percy — What if I said you must? 

Evelyn — You would always regret it. 

P^r<:3;— Why? 

Evelyn — I would show you that I mustn't. 

Percy — I hope when we are married you will have more 
respect for my wishes. 

Evelyn — When we are married I shall be a very different 
girl. 

Percy — I do not want you different. All I ask is that you 
marry me at once. 

Evelyn — Percy, why do you ask me that question so often. 
I have never promised to marry you. 

Percy — No, not exactly that, but I thought you meant to. 
Surely you could do worse. Just think how my set will 
laueh at me if you throw me over. 

Evelyn — Our set will never dictate my choice when it comes 
to marriage. (Remus sees envelope on floor, and picks it 
up and smells it.) 

Percy — (Aside.) Give that to me! 

Remus — Youse had it ernuf. 

Evelyn — What is it, Remus ? 

Remus — Hits yore letter whut cum fer Massar David, dis 
mawnin. 

Evelyn -D\d he see it before he went away? 

Remus — Nome. I locked hit in dat draw, en hit have been 
opened. 

Evelyn — Let me see it. (Remus goes L. and looks out.) 
(Evelyn examines empty envelope. Percy is nervous.) Percy, 
David Bourne would suffer both his hands cut off before he 
would permit them to do as mean a thing as this. 

Percy — Now you know I didn't do that, dear. 

Evelyn — (Fiercely.) Don't ever call me dear again. 

Remus — (Excitedly.) Yonder cum Massar David's hoss, 
en he ain't wid her. Deys got 'em! 

Evelyn — Where is the commander of the guard? 

Percy — Ha, ha. Your lover is in danger, and no one to 
rescue him. You have my sympathy. 

Evelyn — O, you miserable coward! I am here, and thank 
heaven 1 can lead his men. Remus, tell the bugler to sound 
"To arms," and bring me Black Bess instantly. (Ex. Remus 
L. quickly.) 

Percy — How will you find him. 

Evelyn — I shall give Black Bess a free rein, and trust the 
gods of destiny to take me to him. 

Percy — Then you do love him? 



Evelyn — Yes, I do love him, and I am willing to give m/ 
life to save him. (Call to arms off L.) 

Percy — (Threatens to hold her.) You shall not go. I will 
not let you waste your life on that vagabond. 

Evelyn — (Freeing herself and crossing to left, quickly 

draws her sword "in tierce," holding pose.) Stand back or 

I shall disgrace my blade with a coward's blood. (Percy 

cowers.) The whole world could not keep me from his side. 

QUICK CURTAIN. 



ACT IV. 

SCENE — Home of Benjamin Capell — Three months later. 

STAGE DIRECTIONS— Large Morris chair or rocker 
with pillows and footstool, center. Another chair right of C. 
Table right for flowers. Windows back. 



Remus — Well, heah I is, back fum de war widout er 
scratch. We done licked de stuffin outen dem fellers, en I 
specs de nex time somebody gits er notion dat Uncle Sam 
have fergot how ter fight en wants ter tackle him fur er 
scrap, '1 fust take de time ter look up de ole man's battin 
average. En when he finds dat he alius knocks er home run. 
he'l cide not ter pester us. But pore Massar David sho did 
have er narrah scapus. En he ain't outen danger yit, but 
Miss Evelyn have got him heah in her big fine hum now, en 
he gwine ter pull thu. He sho am gittin fine treatment, en 
it am very plain ter me, dat ef yer wants ter git credit fur 
fightin, yer got ter git hut. 

Nurse — (L. In apron and cap.) Have you made the chair 
comfortable, Remus? 

Remus — Jes as cozy as er mous nes. 

Nurse — Draw the curtains and let in plenty of fresh air 
and sunshine. Then in a few minutes you may come and 
assist me. 

Evelyn — (R. with flowers.) Good morning, Miss Wallace. 
I hope the Colonel is better this morning. 

Nurse — He is much better, thank you. And I am going to 
let him come out here on the sun porch for a little fresh air 
and sunshine. 

Evelyn — O I am so glad of that. I will just place his 
flow'ivs here (Places on table.) 

Nurse — You may come in just a few minutes, Remus. 
(Ex. L.) 

Remus — She sho am good ter Massar David. 

Evelyn — She is perfectly lovely to him. 

Remus — She am purty, too. Wouldn't it be fine ef he falls 
in love wid her? 

Evelyn — (Quickly.) What did you say? 

Remus — I say I believe Massar David am fallin in love wid 
her. Won't that be nice? 

Evelyn — That depends. Why do you say that? 

Remus — I'se jes jedgin by de way she looks at 'm, en how 
she belt his ban en rubbed his hade when we wus comin in 
on dat train. (Goes L.) 

27 



Evelyn — Where were the physicians who were supposed to 
he with him all the time this nurse was so loving? 

Remus — Dey wus in de smoker. (Goes L. as if to ex.) 

Evelyn — Here, Remus. You wait a minute. 

Remus — (Aside.) Hit am wukin lack er charm. 

Evelyn — Tell me all you know. 

Remus — (Going back.) I kin do dat, case I stayed rat wid 
em all de time. En I kin trufifully say dat she sho wus good 
ter him; but dat she nebber did git half as close ter his face 
as you did dat mawnin when he wus wounded. 

Evelyn — O, tell me about that morning. It seems just like 
a dream. 

Remus — All rat den. Dat mawnin when you brung Massar 
David back, mo dead den erlive, yer tuck his hade in yer" 
lap en leaned ober close en axed him ef he knowed yer. Yer 
exed him dis erbout er hundert times. Den yer kissed him. 

Evelyn— REMUS ! 

Remus — I gwine ter tell de whole truf. 

Evelyn — Go ahead. Nobody is listening. 

Remus — Well, now, Miss Evelyn, yer may er got down 
close jes ter see ef he wus breavin. 

Evelyn — Yes, yes. Sure. That was it. 

Remus — Unhuh. Ef I hadn't er been lookin maybe I neb- 
ber would er knowed any better. Den dat big head surgeon 
whut you ordered got dar, en said pore Massar David boun 
ter die. Den yer axed dem all ter leab de room jer er min- 
ute. Yer didn't ax me, en so I didn't go. Dats how I heard 
yer say, "O, David, don't die. I love you so." Den yer 
leaned ober rat close — ter see ef he wus breavin. 

Evelyn — Did you ever tell David this? 

Remus — NOME ! En I aint gwine ter tell him. Hit mout 
spile dis nusses chances. 

Evelyn — Now tell me more about this nurse. 

Remus — I thut we'd git back to her. Well, when I went 
back in dar — 

Evelyn — When you went back in there? I thought you 
never left them alone. 

Remus — Yassam, yassam. Yer ain't kotched me yit. You 
see hit wus dis way — she wus erway whilst I wus. En when 
I went back in dar Massar David axed me when we'd git 
hum. I tole him de nex day. Den he looked outen de win- 
dow en kinder smiled en slipped his ban in his bosom en 
brung out er leetle locket, en looked at de pictur in it fur er 
long time. Den he shook his hade en sighed, en put it back. 
I seen him do dis er lot er times, en alius he sighed when he 
put it back. (Silent.) I got ter go now, but I got er lot er 
reminipances saved up fer yer. (Ex. L.) 

Evelyn — (Placing pillows.) I hope all his REMINI- 
PANCES are not about this nurse. (Enter Mrs. B., R.) 
O, Mrs. Bourne, how you scared me. 

Mrs. B. — (Smiling.) I am sorry, dear. My, what a cozy 
chair you have there. 

Evelyn — Think so? It is for David. The nurse is going to 
let him out for a while. 

Mrs. B, — Here comes the poor boy now. (Enter David, L., 



supported by Remus and Nurse.) Be careful, Remus. 

Remus — O, I'se got him, all rat. 

Evelyn — Why you are walking just fine, David, and I am 
so glad. Good morning. 

David — Good morning. Glad I pass inspection. (Sits.) 
But I call it a pretty poor parade. 

Nurse — Now, Colonel, you must be perfectly quiet, and 
very careful with your side. Do not talk or laugh, or move 
without assistance. I will go telephone Dr. Austin how well 
you are thi^ morning. 

David — Please ask him if I cannot have more to eat. I am 
simplj starving. 

Nurse — All right. And you shall have your raw egg and 
wine in Just a few minutes. Now, Miss Capell, we will leave 
him alone. 

Evelyn — Very well, Miss Wallace. No sacrifice is too great 
if it will help him to get well. And when you are better 
I will make up for the lost time. (Ex. R.) 

Nurse — You may remain a while, Mrs. Bourne. 

j\frs. B. — Thank you, so much. (Ex. Nurse L.) She is a 
splendid nurse but I do not like for her to say what I shall 
and what I shall not do for my boy. 

David — Don't feel that way about it, mother. She has 
played a large part in saving my life. 

Mrs. B. — I am not unmindful of that. But you must not 
forget that your greatest debt you owe to Evelyn, who risked 
her life for you. 

David — Remembering that is what makes me feel so un- 
worthy; for it is a debt I can never pay. Mother, when 
can I get out and enjoy the peace and freedom of the big 
fields again? 

Mrs. B. — Are you not happy here? 

David — My suffering has been made sweet to me, and I am 
grateful ; but the thought that I must soon go back and be 
miserable alone in my little world prevents me from being 
happy. 

Mrs. B. — Now, now, don't be despondent, son. You are 
just weak from suffering and fasting. Evelyn has persuaded 
Dr. Austin to let you have something good to eat. She was 
out at sunrise with her dogs and gun — but I promised not 
to tell you. (Remus, L.) 

Remus — You sho do keep er secrut. Miss Mary. 

Mrs. B. — I will go before I tell more. (Ex. R.) 

Remus — How yer feelin dis mawnin, Massar David? 

David — (Smiling.) O, my excruciating indisposition is by 
imperceptible gradations fading into a convalescence that is 
exasperating. 

Remus — (Has been backing to chair and collapses in it, R.) 
Youse sho had er back-set. 

David — No I am feeling fine. 

Remus — (Rising.) Wall, den, done yer gib me no mo er 
dem degradatin disputations. En I'l go ax de Nuss bout dat 
conglomeration uv asparagus, 

David — All right. Move that stool closer. 

Remus — (Moving stool.) How am dat? 

2D 



David — That is better. After all I believe you are the best 
nurse in the bunch. 

Remus — I tries ter be, but er cose mah bans aint soft lack 
dat purty nuss's. She sho have been good ter you, ain't she? 

David — She has been very kind, indeed. 

Remus — Why done yer set up ter her? 
■ David — Now please don't get sentimental. 

Remus — Better listen ter me! (David is silent.) Why 
done yer say somepin? I cain't do no good arguin wid yer 
onless yer'l talk. 

David — What are you tryin to find out? 

Remus — Jes how yer feels bout dis nuss. 

David — O, I like her very much. And before she goes I 
may tell her so, and see what she has to say. 

Remus — Whut ef she say "yes"? 

David — Why, marry her, of course. 

Remus — (Aside.) Golly, I'se er gittin too fas. Now look 
er heah, Massar David, we're fergittin dat dar am ernudder 
Oman whut have had er leetle ter do wid savin yo life, en she 
goin ter wear a scar on her purty face as long as she libs, 
jes fer you. How we gwine ter let dis nuss take her place? 

David — You run along now, and let me rest. 

Remus — (Going L.) All rat. En whilst yer is restin, do 
some good hard thinkin. (Ex. L.) 

David — That scar! I would all but sell my soul to touch 
it with my lips. It burns continually on my memory, and I 
am helpless to show how I love it. Sometimes when I re- 
count all that has happened I cannot doubt that nothing but 
deep and lasting love could rest beneath it all. And then 
comes the thought that my destiny lies beneath hers, and that 
it would be small in me, and a lack of appreciation if I be- 
come selfish. 

Mrs. B. — (R.) Is there anything I can do to make you 
iuore comfortable? 

David — I would like to read something. Bring me a copy 
of Wordsworth, please. 

Mrs. B. — I will have to ask the Nurse. 

David — O, I am so tired of being an invalid. 

Mrs. B. — Now, David, don't be impatient. 

Mr. C. — (R.) Good morning. I am glad to see our boy 
able to be up again. How are you, David? 

David — They tell me I am better, thank you; but I am so 
hungry I cannot feel it. 

Mr. C. — Well, my boy, I wish I could take you into the 
city with me and dine you on the best they hame. Later J 
promise to do just that, but until then you must be patient. 
Just let us all do what we can for you, and accept it as from 
our hearts. Mrs. Bourne, I am driving over to the Falls this 
morning. Will you accompany me? 

Mrs. B.—l would be delighted. (Ex. R.) 

Mr. C. — (Taking seat by David.) Now, David, tell me what 
it is that prevents you from being happy here. 

David — Mr. Capell, I hope you do not think I am ungrate- 
ful for your goodness to me. I want to get well and go home 
so that I can take up the work that has been neglected. 

30 



Mr. C. — It is just like you to be thinking of my interest. 
But that can wait. It is far less important to me than your 
health. First, I want to see you well and happy, and able 
to g • to work again — this time in my office. 

David — Your goodness overwhelms me. 

Mr. C— Mot at all. Not at all, David. The service you 
rendered my country deserves more than I can ever give you. 
(Rises.) In plain words, my boy, I like you tremendously, 
and find genuine pleasure in showing it. I have nothing that 
is good enough for you, and it would please me very much 
if you would regard me as a father and come to me when you 
need a true friend and sympathizer. 

David— ThdiUk you, Mr. Capell. If ever I am able to do any 
work for you I shall most assuredly try my best to do it in 
such a way as to show what your goodness means to me. 

Qill,ert—{R. in overalls.) Well, old scout, it's great to 
see you coming along like this. I hope you keep it up. 

Z^az/irf— Thanks, Gilbert. How is your wound? 

Gilbert — O, I am as sound as a dollar. 

David— hn6. how is the farm this morning? 

Gilbert — The farm is feeling fine. And so am I. Say, dad, 
I think I will just remain out here and enjoy life. After- 
three years in the army service nothing but this big, whole- 
some, honest living is good enough for me. 

Mr. C— Well, now, I am glad to hear you say that. I would 
be only too glad to arrange for you to stay here with David. 

David — And so would I. 

Gilbert— Thtn, by George, we will just do that. It is pretty 
late to begin, but I will make a man yet. (Enter Evelyn R.) 
Evelyn I am going to be a farmer. 

Evelyn— WKR.S and RUMORS OF WARS! It sounds 
mighty' nice, Gil, but I won't believe it until I see you sweat- 
ing some real sweat. 

Nurse— (L.) O, I say now, good people. You must all 
get out and let the Colonel rest. 

Evelyn— 1 wasn't making any noise. Nurse. 

Gilbert— Dad is the culprit. 

Mr. C. — Now who was it. Nurse? 

Nurse— It must have been the Colonel. And just for that 
I propose to keep him in solitary confinement the remainder 
of the day. So clear the deck. 

Gilbert— 'inst a minute. Miss Wallace. I came in to get 
some advice on the hogs. 

Nurse— But I am not a HOG doctor. 

Gilbert— I know that. I referred to David. 

David— Thank you. What's the trouble. 

Gilbert— Thty are slightly, ah, indisposed. 

Mr. C. — What does the veterinarian say? 

Gilbert— R^ thinks that last shipment from Ohio is in- 
fected with cholera, and advises vaccinating the entire herd. 

Mr. C— What do you say, David ? 

David — Stick it to 'm as quick as possible. 

Gilbert— ^ni ced. (Goes R.) Every hog in the bunch will 
have a sore arm tomorrow morning. 

Mrs. B.— (R.) I am ready. 

31 



Mr. C. — We are driving over to the Falls, and may be late 
for luncheon. (Ex. R. with Mrs. B.) 

Gilbert — (Looking after them, then to Evelyn.) JUNE 
BUGS DANCING IN THE SNOW I What do you know 
about that? 

Evelyn — Aren't you glad? 

Gilbert — GLAD! It v^ill be the easiest thing in the world 
for me to say "Brother David." Now I know I am going 
to stay on the farm. (Ex. R.) 

Evelyn — (Going to David.) I have some good news for 
you. The doctor has said you may have some quail on 
toast. 

David — That sounds like a voice from heaven. 

Evelyn — And the quails are on ice. 

David — On ICE ! They will never cook there. 

Evelyn — I am going to cook them myself, and serve them 
at two o'clock. 

David — I hope that is two o'clock this afternoon, for I can- 
not hold the fort much longer without reinforcements. But 
I am afraid of you cook them I shall eat more than I should. 

Evelyn — Just for that nice compliment I shall give you a 
big fat one. 

Nurse — (L.) Really, Miss Capell, I must — 

Evelyn — All right. Nurse. I am going. I was just telling 
him about his quail and how I am going to cook it. (Goes 
right, facing R.) 

Nurse — Why, Colonel, your cheeks FEEL hot. 

Evelyn— (To Aud.) FEELS hot! 

Nurse — Are my hands uncomfortably cold? 

Evelyn — (Same.) Where is Remus? 

David — They feel unusually soft and good. 

Evelyn — (Same.) Now that is the limit. (Turns.) Try 
the thermometer, Nurse. That is the proper way to tell 
whether he has fever. 

Nurse — I hardly think it is necessary. (Still rubbing his 
head.) If he has any at all it is not enough to cause worry. 

Evelyn — Well, it is worrying me. (Takes ther. from 
nurse's apron.) Here, we won't rely so much on how each 
of you FEELS about this matter. (Puts it in his mouth.) 
Is that where you put it? 

Nurse — I think you would make a good nurse. 

Evelyn — Suppose you turn the case over to me. 

Nurse — If the thermometer shows that he has no fever I 
will give him raw egg and grape juice, and leave him in your 
care while I prepare the quail. (Ex. L.) 

Evelyn — You haven't any fever, have you? 

David — (Removes ther.) If I have it is because I am so 
hungry. And I bet she dips that good bird in a bowl of hot 
water, and brings me the water. 

Evelyn — You want me to cook it, don't you? 

Nurse — (L. David quickly replaces ther. She carries small 
waiter with glass of crushed ice, empty glass, and one egg in 
shell. Remus follows with small table which he places at L. 
of David. Nurse places the waiter on it.) If he has any fever 

32 



he cannot have the nourishment. (Place hand to his fore- 
head.) 

Evelyn — Here is the thermometer, down here. 

Nurse — (Same.) T understand. He is not expected to 
swallow it. 

Remus — (Aside.) Now I got em scrappin. Hit'l be easy 
sailin fum now on. 

Nurse — Remus, I forgot the grape juice. Will you get 
it, please? 

Remus — In jes er minit. Miss Nuss. (Ex. L. ) 

Evelyn — You don't care if I look at the thermometer, do 
you. (Reaches for it.) 

A^Mrj^— (Staying her hand.) Not yet. You may prepare 
the ^gg. 

Evelyn — You fix the egg, and I will massage his face — if 
it is really necessary. 

Nurse — O, it isn't really necessary. 

Evelyn — I, thought so. 

Remus— (L.) Heah am de grape juice. De genuine Will- 
iam Jennin's brand. 

Nurse — (Takes egg in hand.) This egg is hot. 

Remus — Yer tole me to git er fresh 'n. 

Nurse — Certainly, but I meant for you to get it out of the 
cold storage. Perhaps I had better select it. (Ex. L.) 

Remus— AW rat. Ef yer kin git er fresh egg outen de cold 
storage, yer ort ter git er patent on de process. She sho am 
nice en keerful bout what Massar David eats, ain't she. What 
am dat thing stickin in Massar David's mouf? 

Evelyn — That is a thermometer. 

Remus — I thut it wus er steam gauge. How do it wuk? 

Evelyn — If he has fever the mercury inside expands and 
shows how much. I hope it does not show any; for if it does 
the nurse says he cannot have any nourishment. 

Remus — Hang dat spanshun business, en dat nuss, too. Let's 
slip 'm somepin ter eat. 

Evelyn — That might not be best. Maybe it won't show any 
fever, then he will get his nourishment and I will get to stay 
with him more. 

Remus— Ei 63it SPANDS when he got fever, whut do hit 
do when he ain't got no fever? 

Evelyn— Why, I suppose it would contract, or stand still. 
Either would suit me. 

Remus— Now ef yer'l jes show me whut 'd make hit CON- 
TRAC ri see to 't dat he gits er bite, en dat you gits ter 
stay wid 'm. 

Evelyn— Anything that is cold will do it. 

Remus— AW rat, den. (Picks up glass of ice and looks L. 
for Nurse.) You whistle ef she cum. Gimme dat thing, 
Massar David. You ain't got no fever. (Takes then) 

David — You are welcome to it, 

Remus — (Sticks it in glass and stirs.) I'l show it how ter 
SPAND en starve folks. 

Evelyn — Now if your nourishment makes you worse I shall 
feel to blame for it. 

Remus — Any danger er dis thing splodin? 

33 



David — Let her bust. I hope I never feel the thing under 
my tongue again. How you getting along with it? 

Remus — (Takes it out and reads slowly.) 50, 51, 52. O, 
I got her blowed down below sixty pounds, all rat. Will 
dat do? 

David — Yes, but for heaven's sake don't put that on the 
chart, or I will not get a bite for thirty days. 

Nurse — (L.) You may read the thermometer now. 

Remus — O, Lawdie. Heah take her quick. 

Evelyn — (Reading.) He gets the nourishment. 

Nurse — Is it above 98? 

Evelyn — Not a fraction. 

Nurse — Here is your raw egg and grape juice. 

Evelyn — Let me prepare it. I know how. 

Nurse — Very well. And in two hours he may have some 
of the quail. (Goes R.) Remember now, just ONE RAW 
egg, and half a glass of grape juice. (Ex. R.) 

Evelyn — (Pouring the grape juice.) Remus, don't you 
think I am just a little the best nurse? 

Remus — Ax Massar David dat. He's de jedge. 

Evelyn — Turns to David. Remus pours more juice.) 
What do you say? 

David — I am not competent to judge. 

Evelyn — That does not answer my question. 

Remus — Jes give em time, en somepin ter eat. Den he'll 
talk. 

Evelyn — (Holding egg between fore finger and thumb.) 
Isn't that a beauty? 

Remus — Hit duse purty well fur er pullet. 

Evelyn — (Spreads linen on D.'s lap. Remus takes another 
&gg from left pocket and quickly breaks it in glass.) Shucks, 
jes one tgg ain't ernuf ter hoi 'm up fur what's er comin. 

Evelyn — (Takes glass and gives it to D.) I am sorry I can- 
not give you something better. 

David — Your kindness and sympathy make it plenty good 
enough. (Drinks it.) Ah, that was good. 

There is no king who could command 
A sweeter draft from a fairer hand. 

Remus — Da, now. I tole yer he'd talk ef yer'd feed 'm. 
(Pours more juice.) Heah, Massar David, am er leetle mo 
ter wash hit down wid. 

David — No more, thank you. 

Remus — (Holding glass close.) You want it? (To Ev.) 

Evelyn — No, thank you. (Remus looks at it.) 

Remus — Reggin dat Nuss wants hit? 

David — Why, no. Just throw it in the sink. 

Remus — (Takes another ^gg, from pocket.) En I got er 
^gg lef over. Ah'l jes thow dat in de sink wid dis good 
lookin juice. (Breaks egg in glass.) Golly dat sho do look 
good. (Takes up table and circle L. Stops and looks down 
into glass.) I may tho you in dat sink, en den ergin I may 
not. Hit all depends on whuther dat sink looks lack hit 
wants yer wussen I do. (Going L.) Now, Miss Evelyn, I 
gwine ter leab 'm wid yer. Dont let 'm have nuffin to play 
.wid dat he cud swallow, onless yer got er string tied to hit. 

34 



Evelyn — (Laughs.) All right, Remus.' 
Remus — En done let let 'm suck his thum. 

David — Get out. 

Remus — Gone! (Ex. L. with table.) 

David— I hope you will pardon his nonsense. 

Evelyn — I like it. 

David—So do I. When he is with me I can aUvays feel 
certain rh?,t I have one unselfish and devDied friend. When 
he leaves me I am usually left alone. 

Evelyn — Shall I call him back. I do not want you to feel 
lonely. 

Dai'id—'^VLi I am not lonely now. And if I said anything 
to cause you to feel that I am not deeply sensible of your 
gracious presence I hope you will foreive me. You must 
remember that I am not often left in such good company, 

Evelvn — Does he ever leave you with that pretty nurse? 

David — I think not. 

Evelyn — I love hit^ for that. O, T mean, that it was good 
of him to be so faithful. That is what I meant to say. 

David— 1 am glad you took the trouble to exnlain. Other- 
wise I might have been foolish enough to ^-h^nk you Avere 
jealous of my poor nurse. And that is a compliment I could 
not reasonably expect. 

E7'elvn — That wouldn't be unreasonable. I am human, 
David. 

David — I know you are human, thoueh I sometimes resfard 
vou as divine — far away and up higher than my world — 
something for me to look up to. and long for. but never 
reach The sole hrippiness of my life is m treasuriii^ up ihe 
happy moments you have given me. I cannot prov^^ mv ap- 
preciation, but if 1 were a king it would be yo\ir fault if I 
It ad no queen. 

Evelyn — But you can nver be a king, David. 

David — Don't rebuke me. What I said was merely one of 
my poor efforts to show you how glad I would be to prove 
my appreciation for what you have done for me. I beer you 
to forsfet m.y maudlin sentiment. I won't be guilty again. 

Evelyn — Why, David, I do not wish to fors-et' what you 
said, it is not maudlin in the least. I have offended you, and 
I am sorry ; and it is you who must forgive. 

David — The very power that places me beneath you robs 
me of that privilege. (Takes locket from bosom, and gives 
it.) Here. 

Evelyn — Please don't be cruel. Let me explain. 

David — I could not understand. You may count me an 
in<rrate. or anything, but please be kind enough to leave me 
and send the nurse. 

Evelvn — Are you ill, David? 

David — No. but I am quite miserable. 

Evelyn — (Rising.) If you insist on driving me awav T 
suppose I should go. T will send the nurse instantly, ((^oes 
R. meeting Nurse.) He has sent for you. (Remains ex- 
treme R.) , 

Murse—C Whh book in hand.) Why Colonel, I hope you 
do not feel worse. 

35 



David — Please call Dr. Austin and ask if it would be safe 
for me to take a short trip. 

Nurse — It is useless. He would say no. 

David — I must go. 

Nurse — Go where? 

David — Back to the South. Any place but here. 

Nurse — Now, now. You must be quiet. Here is the copy 
of Wordsworth you requested. Let me read to you. What 
shall it be? 

David — Get Browning and read the love sonnets just for a 
mockery. 

Evelyn — (Coming up.) Let me do that, Nurse. 

Nurse — O, thank you. I read poorly, anyway. I am going 
out for a walk. If the Colonel needs me, please let me know. 

Evelyn — All right. Stay as long as you please. (Ex. N., R.) 

Remus — (L., carrying glass of grape juice.) Am dar any- 
thing I kin do fur yer, Massar David? 

Evelyn — Nothing, Remus. You may have the remainder of 
the day off and go fishing. 

Remus — (Circles L. Aside.) Ah'd lack ter stay en see it, 
but I reggin hit'l be er closed session. (Places hand over 
glass and exits L.) 

Evelyn — (Pulling chair up close on right side and resting 
open book on David' right chair arm.) Now, David, I am 
ready to read to you. What shall it be? This is Wordsworth. 

David — I think MICHAEL is appropriate. 

Evelyn — (Turning leaves.) O, that is too full of heart- 
aches and shadows. What you need most is sunshine and love. 

David — (Closing book.) Sunshine and love! Why do you 
say that? You must know I love you to the exclusion of all 
the earth. O, why do you crush a heart that is yours already, 
and dares not open to you? 

Evelyn — Because, David, I want to crush it — and conquer it 
it — and have it open and admit me as its very own. 

David — O, Evelyn, then I am a king indeed. Now be my 
queen. 

Evelyn — I've a good notion not to do it. (Rests her head 
cuzily on his shoulder.) 

Remus — (L.) Better take 'm up. Miss Evelyn, afore he 
back out. (Advances to side of chair and looks down at them. 
To audience.) Now ef I drinks dis juice nobody '1 eber 
know anything erbout hit. (He does not drink, but holds 
the glass up and looks at it.) 

QUICK CURTAIN. 

THE END. . , 



36 



Evelyn — (Laughs.) All right, Remus. 

Remus — En done let let 'm suck his thum. 

David — Get out. 

Remus — Gone! (Ex. L. with table.) 

David — I hope you will pardon his nonsense. 

Evelyn — I like it. 

David — So do I. When he is with me I can aUvays feel 
certain rhp.t I have one unselfish and devDied friend. When 
he leaves me I am u<=;ually left alone. 

Evelyn — Shall I call him back. I do not want you to feel 
lonely. 

David — But I am not lonely now. And if I said anything 
to cause you to feel that I am not deeply sensible of your 
gracious presence I hope you will foreive me. You must 
remember that I am not often left in such good company. 

Evelyn — Does he ever leave you with that pretty nurse? 

David — I think not. 

E7'elyn — I love h'"rn for that. O. I mean, that it was good 
of him to be so faithful. That is what I meant to say. 

David — I am glad you took the trouble to explain. Other- 
wise I might have been foolish enough to think you were 
jealous of my poor nurse. And that is a compliment I could 
not reasonably expect. 

Evelyn — That wouldn't be unreasonable. I am human, 
David. 

David — I know 5^ou are human, thouoh I sometimes regard 
you as divine — far away and up higher than my world — 
somethinsT for me to look up to, and long for. but never 
ro;ich The sole happiness of my life is m treasuriM^ up ihe 
happy moments you have given me. I cannot provp mv an 
prcciation, but if 1 were a king it would be your fault if ! 
liad no queen. 

Evelyn — But you can nver be a king, David. 

David— Don't rebuke me. What I said was merely one of 
my poor efforts to show you how glad I would be to prove 
my appreciation for what you have done for me. I besf you 
to forget my maudlin sentiment. I won't be guilty again. 

Evelyn — Why, David, I do not wish to forget what you 
said, it is not maudlin in the least. I have offended you, and 
I am sorry: and it is you who must forgive. 

Dai'id — The very power that places me beneath you robs 
me of that privilege. (Takes locket from bosom, and gives 
it.) Here. 

Evelyn — Please don't be cruel. Let me explain. 

David — I could not understand. You may count me an 
inerate, or anything, but please be kind enough to leave me 
and send the nurse. 

Evelyn — Are you ill, David? 

David — No. but I am quite miserable. 

Evelyn — (Rising.) If you insist on driving me away I 
suppose I should go. I will send the nurse instantly. (Goes 
R. meeting Nurse.) He has sent for you. (Remains ex- 
treme R.) 

Nurse— IV^\ih book in hand.) Why Colonel, I hope you 
do not feel worse. 

35 



David — Please call Dr. Austin and ask if it would be safe 
for me to take a short trip. 

Nurse — It is useless. He would say no. 

David — I must go. 

Nurse — Go where? 

David — Back to the South. Any place but here. 

Nurse — Now, now. You must be quiet. Here is the copy 
of Wordsworth you requested. Let me read to you. What 
shall it be? 

David — Get Browning and read the love sonnets just for a 
mockery. 

Evelyn — (Coming up.) Let me do that, Nurse. 

Nurse — O, thank you. I read poorly, anyway. I am going 
out for a walk. If the Colonel needs me, please let me know. 

Evelyn — All right. Stay as long as you please. (Ex. N., R.) 

Remus — (L., carrying glass of grape juice,) Am dar any- 
thing I kin do fur yer, Massar David? 

Evelyn — Nothing, Remus. You may have the remainder of 
the day off and go fishing. 

Remus — (Circles L. Aside.) Ah'd lack ter stay en see it, 
but I reggin hit'l be er closed session. (Places hand over 
glass and exits L.) 

Evelyn — (Pulling chair up close on right side and resting 
open book on David' right chair arm.) Now, David, I am 
ready to read to you. Whnt shall it be? This is Wordsworth. 

David — I think MICHAEL is appropriate. 

Evelyn — (Turning leaves.) O, that is too full of heart- 
aches and shadows. What you need most is sunshine and love. 

David — (Closing book.) Sunshine and love! Why do you 
say that? You must know I love you to the exclusion of all 
the earth. O, why do you crush a heart that is yours already, 
and dares not open to you? 

Evelyn — Because, David, I want to crush it — and conquer it 
it — and have it open and admit me as its very own. 

David — O, Evelyn, then I am a king indeed. Now be my 
queen. 

Evelyn — I've a good notion not to do it. (Rests her head 
cuzily on his shoulder.) 

Remus — (L.) Better take *m up, Miss Evelyn, afore he 
back out. (Advances to side of chair and looks down at them. 
To audience.) Now ef I drinks dis juice nobody '1 eber 
know anything erbout hit. (He does not drink, but holds 
the glass up and looks at it.) 

QUICK CURTAIN. 

THE END. . , 



36 



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